


Dark Clouds

by neverminetohold



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Drabble Sequence, Gen, M/M, Male My Unit | Byleth, Mild Language, Slash, Tags May Change, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:28:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverminetohold/pseuds/neverminetohold
Summary: Having learned of Sothis' existence within him during early childhood, Byleth was determined to walk his own path, whether the whole of Fódlan liked it or not.
Kudos: 13





	1. The Beginning

Byleth woke within his dream. As a child, the sensation had unsettled him. Now it was a familiar kind of dissonance, to leave his body behind to exist in a realm of the mind that lacked all substance.

He opened his eyes to darkness, broken only by a ray of light that illuminated a throne carved from stone. Sothis slept curled up on it, her face peaceful, her long green hair and elegant blue dress stirring in a gentle breeze that had no source.

Unlike him she had not aged at all since their first meeting. Byleth cleared his throat to get her attention and Sothis blinked awake with a yawn that she hid behind one delicate hand.

"There you are, Byleth!" Sothis said with the hint of a pout. "I've been waiting to hear from you. What news? Have you already fulfilled your latest contract? Remire Village, wasn't it?"

Trapped in this realm and cut off from the world on top of suffering from amnesia, Sothis was always eager for any information he was willing to share. Most of the time, Byleth indulged her.

He shook his head. "Not yet. We've had trouble locating the bandits we were hired to kill. They have been lying low."

"You have accepted the task, so you better see it done, and well," Sothis said with a frown, in that impervious, scolding tone of hers.

Byleth didn't roll his eyes, though the temptation was there. "Of course."

The touch of a hand to his shoulder filtered through from reality, the sensation like a faint echo. His body was given a gentle shake.

"What a pity. It seems your attention is required elsewhere." Sothis' eyes were growing heavy again, her energy spent. "Do visit me again. Soon."


	2. Remire Village

"Wake up. That's no place to fall asleep."

Byleth opened his eyes to the image of the scarred tabletop he had slumped over and the hand-drawn maps spread out on it. He sat up in his chair and stretched, massaging his stiff neck with one hand.

Jeralt shook his head at him, but his smile was fond. "That dream again?"

Byleth nodded. He glanced towards the window, where the shade of one of their men on guard duty was passing by. "Shouldn't Mel and Dorne have reported back by now?"

The door to their room was thrown open without so much as a knock and Mel rushed in. "Byleth! Jeralt! You need to hear this. The bandits we've been searching for have gone after some noble brats. They're waiting out front with Barris."

"Pampered little assholes," Dorne added as he came through the door, grinning from ear to ear. "It's our lucky day. No more hunting, the fools have come right to us. Better yet, we can make some extra coin."

"They must be part of a training exercise from Garreg Mach," Byleth said, sharing a meaningful look with his father. "Their presence here endangers our clients."

Jeralt rubbed his bearded chin. "How do you want to deal with this?"

"They won't expect to meet any resistance here. A frontal assault seems likely." Byleth studied his maps, finger tracing the track that local hunters used and the point where it came close to the main road. "I'll take my platoon through the forest. We can cut them off here."

"Risky," Mel said at the same time as Dorne said, "Easy."

The siblings glared at each other. Jeralt shot them a quelling look. Byleth ignored them. "I'll leave the safety of the villagers and those students to you. Best to keep them away from the skirmish."

Jeralt nodded and went outside, with Mel following him like a shadow. Before the door closed Byleth caught a glimpse of two men and a woman his own age, all dressed in the uniform that marked them as members of the renowned Officers Academy.

"Things are getting interesting," Dorne commented as he bent to string his warbow that was almost as long as he stood tall.

You've no idea how right you are, Byleth thought, face as impassive as ever as he retrieved his sword and buckled on the scabbard.


	3. Ashen Demon

The Blade Breakers were in position, spread out and hidden in the deep shadows between the trees where the light of dawn didn't yet reach. A dozen armed men in leather armor came into view, moving along the main road at a fast clip.

"Now," Byleth whispered.

Dorne nocked a signal arrow to his bow. Let loose it arched above the forest, its high-pitched whistling both order to attack and a warning for those left behind to defend Remire.

Byleth rushed out of the shrubbery and was upon the first bandit before the startled man had time to draw his blade. Leather and flesh parted under the slash, aimed for the throat. Warm blood spattered Byleth's face.

One of Dorne's arrows shot past Byleth, hitting another bandit in the shoulder. The man shrieked in pain and let go of his axe. Fear and shock made him lose control of his bowels, the stench of shit mixing with that of copper. The bandit fell on his ass and tried to crawl away, but another of Dorne's arrows found its mark in his eye socket with moist 'thwack'.

After those first moments of clarity there was only chaos as bandits and mercenaries clashed and the air filled with the clang of metal and screams. Swordsmanship turned to blind hacking and slashing, mindless slaughter in order to survive.

Byleth only stopped killing once he was surrounded by corpses, the only ones left standing the members of his platoon. "Report!"

"Only minor injuries, sir," Barris answered, wiping his daggers clean with a handful of plucked leaves. "We got them all."

Byleth sheathed his sword and breathed, slow and deep, waiting for the hot pulsing energy in the middle of his chest to subside.

"Get some shovels, men," Dorne shouted with a grim smile. "We have graves to dig."


End file.
